


Sensation

by misato



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Senses, bless this mess, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: Exploring the 5 senses through 5 different snapshots in Viktor and Yuuri's relationship.





	

_Touch:_

Ever since Yuuri’s won silver, Viktor has become more confident when it comes to touching Yuuri.

So confident, in fact, that he does it all the time.

It drives Yuuri insane.

They’ll be in the middle of an interview, and he’ll loop an arm tightly around his waist, or slide a hand warmly onto his thigh, or even run his fingers delicately through his hair; it’s as if he’s trying to broadcast their love to the world. But all Yuuri can muster in return is a blush, or an awkward laugh, or in some dreadful cases, an erection.

Maybe he’s been touch-starved for so long that anything feels good, especially when it’s Viktor.

And Viktor is always warm.

So warm.

Sometimes, Viktor will come up behind Yuuri and wrap his arms around him and snuggle into his shoulder, his breath hot against his neck.

“It’s cold,” he’ll insist, as an excuse.

And Viktor is full of excuses.

Once, when they were sitting at the kitchen table in Yuuri’s apartment, eating lunch and talking, Viktor reached right over the table and carefully brushed something off his lip with his thumb.

“Sorry,” he had said offhandedly. “You had something there.”

It makes Yuuri want to scream.

But all he can do is flush all over and stutter out an apology and then quickly finish the rest of his lunch before going to the bathroom to jack off.

Because it’s not like they’re even dating.

They’re playing at being engaged, but neither of them wants to bring up the truth.

And so they live on stolen touches and half-assed love confessions.

Yuuri knows that Viktor’s love for him is stronger than anything, but he wants to hear it.

He wants to feel it hot against his neck, in Viktor’s carefully exhaled breaths, his mouth ghosting softly over the skin there.

He wants to feel it in the way Viktor’s hands would run over him, everywhere, without the need to pull away or make up a reason.

He wants it to feel it in the sensation of plush lips pressed against his own chapped ones, he wants to feel it in the dampness of sweat and lube and cum, he wants to feel it with two pale hands sliding slick over his cock and one incredible tongue licking wet over the cleft of his ass.

He wants to feel it in the thrumming of their twin heartbeats.

But this is only mere fantasy.

Viktor loves to play at touching him, but he’ll never hold his hand for more than a minute, he’ll always treat it like a joke. As if the ring he wears on his finger is nothing more than a publicity stunt.

He wants Viktor flush against him, nothing but skin and sensation.

But for now, he can settle for daydreams.

 

_Taste:_

Yuuri’s favorite food is katsudon. It’s savory and delicious and it makes him feel like he’s won something, even if he hasn’t.

Viktor’s already finished off his own bowl, along with an amount of alcohol that Yuuri would never dare ingest unless he wanted to start yet another dance-off.

Viktor’s hand skims over Yuuri’s own as he sets down his chopsticks, and he meets Viktor’s unfocused eyes.

“Yuuri,” and his voice is dark and deep, and there’s something in his eyes that’s a little bit frightening.

The taste of the katsudon lingers in his mouth as he looks down shyly at his bowl, breaking Viktor’s intense gaze. But Viktor cups his chin with one delicate hand and their eyes meet once more, and this time, he thinks he feels Viktor trembling against him.

“What is it, Viktor?”

“You’re beautiful,” he says weakly, as if that single thought is so daunting that it breaks him to say it. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “Is that all?”

And then Viktor laughs, the sound bright, and the tension breaks and then before he knows what’s happening, their lips are brushing together.

Viktor tastes like katsudon, and he’s so warm, and oh, God, Yuuri really should’ve prepared for this. He actually has no idea what he’s doing, and before he even realizes that he hasn’t moved his mouth in the slightest, the kiss is over..

Yuuri’s still holding the chopsticks when he pulls away.

“Why didn’t we do this earlier?” Viktor wonders out loud.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri mumbles. “You never asked.”

He goes back to his meal, but he decides that katsudon tastes much better on Viktor’s lips.

 

_Smell:_

They’re sleeping in the same bed, like it’s no big deal.

Of course, they’ve done this before, but now that they’ve kissed, it feels as if everything’s changed.

Boundaries have been lifted. (Viktor snuggles against Yuuri beneath the sheets, absentmindedly kissing the base of his neck.)

Rules have been changed. (Yuri turns around, crumpling the blankets, and presses a hot, wet kiss to Viktor’s mouth.)

But they haven’t fucked.

It’s sort of unspoken; they obviously both want to, but whenever either of them gets hard during a makeout session, they freak out and excuse themselves to the bathroom for a cold shower or a quick orgasm.

But it’s dark, and they’re close, and they _want_ it so bad.

Viktor’s just gotten out of the shower, and his hair is damp and he smells like fresh citrus. Yuuri knows it’s only his favorite body wash, but he can’t help but inhale deeply, breathing in the familiar scent. There’s something else beneath the scent; musky and deep and delicious, so intangible that it almost escapes him.

But when he kisses over Viktor’s neck, the scent rages against him like a perfect flood of desire; he smells like lust and sex and, admittedly, lemons.

“Do you want to-” he starts nervously, because he can feel Viktor’s cock hard and lovely against his hip, and Viktor nods.

He can’t see him in the near-complete darkness, but he feels his chin bob against his shoulder.

Finally, finally, Yuuri lets his hand wander down over Viktor’s bare, toned chest, tracing nameless patterns over his abdomen, until it slips into his sweatpants. He wraps his fist around that cock, feels its beauty against his fingertips, though he can’t see it.

Yuuri can’t take the way Viktor’s breathes into his neck, so warm, so sweet; he can smell the mint toothpaste fresh on his breath. He’s got one hand in Viktor’s pants and one in his own, jerking himself off desperately.

He’s never chased an orgasm like this; they have time to be slow, but he wants this to be fast and quick and dirty and perfect.

He feels Viktor’s warm release spilling over his hand, and stops his movements gradually.

Yuuri’s still hard; he lets Viktor lean in close, kissing him, smelling warm and perfect and lemony and minty all at once. When Viktor wraps one slender hand around his cock and pulls gently at it, twisting his fingers over the head; he comes in his pants.

They both need a shower, though Viktor’s just taken one.

The water is lukewarm, but Yuuri lets Viktor wash his hair with that fancy citrus shampoo, and he goes to bed smelling like Viktor, complete with that lustful, deep scent that seems to only come from the man himself.

 

_Sight:_

“Are you sure you want to watch?” Yuuri murmurs, nervous, as he lowers himself onto Viktor’s cock.

He’s sort of shaky and keeps clenching up, though he’s been properly prepared.

“If it bothers you, I won’t,” Viktor says, looking away playfully.

But it doesn’t, not really, and so Yuuri looks him dead in the eye and says:

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off me.”

Then he sinks all the way down.

The sound that Viktor makes is delicious, but the sight is much more; eyes threatening to flutter shut, cheeks dusting pink, abdomen tightening, mouth wide and pink and moaning.

He loses himself in the rhythm of it, and best of all is the way that Viktor looks at him. It’s like he’s never wanted something so badly in his life.

It’s the look he has on the ice.

Viktor moans and comes, filling Yuuri up perfectly.

Yuuri comes too, his release spilling softly over their stomachs as their movements slow.

Yuuri slips quietly into the bathroom to clean up, and when he gets back, Viktor is half-asleep.

Viktor stretches on the bed, yawning. His hair is messed up. He looks undone.

The sight is beautiful.

 

_Sound:_

The sound of someone saying “I love you” is better than anything. Well, almost anything.

There’s the feeling of Viktor’s cock in his ass. That’s pretty good too.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says. “I want to hear you.”

Yuuri shifts on the bed; he’s beneath Viktor, trapped between his toned thighs as Viktor thrusts in, brushing against his prostate just right.

He opens his mouth and lets a moan fall from his lips, his eyes struggling to meet Viktor’s.

But then he thrusts in harder, slamming against that spot with vigor, and Yuuri can’t help but tip his head back and scream.

“Yes, Yuuri,” Viktor gasps, the sound breathy and light. “Perfect, so good for me.”

The sound of Viktor’s praise carries him into orgasm, and Viktor follows shortly after, spilling his release into Yuuri’s ass.

“I love you,” Viktor says, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Yuuri thinks that maybe that’s the best thing in the world after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i live on kudos and comments, thank you for reading.
> 
> feel free to make a fic request :)


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